


In the Mirror

by Nyakuni



Category: Original Work
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-15 19:25:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17534756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyakuni/pseuds/Nyakuni
Summary: Ren Mingen is tired of being average. He's not popular, athletic, artistic, academically gifted, or wealthy. He can't seem to make any reliable friends, let alone something deeper. He isn't invisible, but can't seem to stand out enough to do more than watch life pass him by from the sidelines. Ren is sick of being that guy.Only, what if giving someone else the reigns for a while can get Ren everything he's wanted?





	1. Step One: Distance

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if you like my writing, or if you'd like to have something fleshed out.  
>  I may very well alter this story if there is enough influence asking for it.  
>  Expect writing style to fluctuate between chapters.

Ren wipes across the mirror with the palm of his hand, leaving a messy streak in the fogged-over glass. His hair is short enough not to need brushing and he hasn't had any issues with acne since tenth grade, but he looks in this mirror every morning anyway. He looks and tries to decide who and what he is, and why he bothers with this facade. He tries to decide how to break out of the act, but each and every time, he sighs and turns away, too low in even his own estimation to rise to the task of escaping the prison he made himself. He thinks he will always be what they see of him.

For the first time, when he looks into his own eyes in his reflection today, he thinks: that is wrong. He thinks this because he is already a little different from how they always see him. He couldn't put his finger on why, or what exactly tips him off to this, but as he is unable to look away, he is certain of it. There is something new in those eyes of his. Something that is not quite himself. Not the boy he pretends to be or the one he wishes he could be, but something else. His hand stays on the mirror, the cold of the glass a little more biting than usual, the steam of the room a little less thick. Ren smiles. He doesn't know why he does it, but it sticks. It isn't something pleasant, it isn't something cocky, nor even entirely malicious... it is satisfied. This new Ren is satisfied with seeing himself in the mirror, and that is how Ren knows for certain that it is not him. The smile melts, the hand draws away cautiously, and as his eyes break the stare with themselves, Ren forgets. He seals the moment away as something strange but no longer relevant, gone like the smile. Ren goes to school.

He does not go alone.

* * *

 Ren is not disliked. He is not part of any minority. He isn't a particularly easy target. He doesn't stand out in any way. Still, he is not exempt from the scorn of muscular jocks that mock his thin frame and quiet attitude. He is no stranger to whispers and titters over his unimpressive height or secondhand clothes. He enjoys no immunity to the ridiculing attentions of his teachers. Ren keeps his head down as he is jostled in the hallways and ignored during team sports or group projects. He brushes off minor injuries to mind, body, and ego. He lasts another day as no more than the same Ren he has always been. When the school lets out early, Ren heads home by himself. Instead of mulling over his mediocrity, Ren's mind is strangely silent on the trip today. Most of the students lingered at the school. He might have made more of an impression by staying, but he does not want to stay. It is hard enough surviving the parts he is forced to take part in without carving out new ones for himself. 

He reaches for his keys to unlock his front door, and his hand finds something different. Ren does not smoke, does not light incense or camp or play with fireworks, so why is there a lighter in his pocket? He does not recognize it, but it feels familiar in his hand. After wondering a moment in silence, he tucks the foreign object away and brings out the only other one in his pockets. He unlocks the door and lets himself in, and although he is now home, he locks it again. He does not turn on any of the lights, making his way directly to his bedroom. By time he hangs up his bag, the lighter is gone. He seals the memory away, a strange imagining. His father smokes. There is a whole collection of lighters on the coffee table. He must have been thinking of one of those. His father's birthday is close. Maybe a new lighter will be a suitable gift.

The next day, classes are cancelled. There was a fire in one of the classrooms yesterday. The exits had been sealed shut from outside. Twenty-six students and one teacher died. The suspect looks nothing like Ren.

* * *

Ren doesn't look in the mirror today. There is nothing to see there, anyway. He has no classes, but he doesn't want to stay home and be lectured later by his parents, so he goes out. It's not cold yet, but no longer warm out. Staying outside isn't a good idea in the long run, so he visits one of the few places he can go inside without having to buy something. The library. He doesn't read much, or not much more than anyone else. Apparently everyone reads more than he thinks, though, because there are a lot of students here today. Maybe they're avoiding parents, too. He doesn't pay them much attention, and they don't really notice him, either.

Ren picks a few comic books and some poetry for a change and settles in to waste away some of the time. He talks to himself, just to keep from feeling lonely. He's not bad company, actually, at least he doesn't think so. The library is busier and noisier than he likes, though, so he checks out his books and heads home. He can lie and say he was out most of the day now that he has proof, anyway. He wishes he had something to play music. It's a long trip, and a quiet weekday, so he sings to himself on the way back. By time he's gotten home, though, he is more tired than expected. He heads to his bedroom to lay down, and for a while he just lets his mind wander, too afraid to be caught sleeping when his parents return. While his mind wanders, his body becomes less tired, and soon he is exercising to wear it down again. Hardly a new activity. He is a teenage boy after all. It feels better than usual this time, though. He is deeply satisfied with his day although he doesn't recall doing much with it. He hears his parents arrive home and scrambles to hide the clues to his latest activities. He pauses over one piece of evidence that makes no sense.

The bra is too small to fit his mother. She doesn't like this much lace, either. Ren hides it in his laundry.

* * *

Classes are back on again the next day. Parents were encouraged to let their children return to regular attendance yesterday. The police have ruled out students of Ren's school based on video evidence and their suspect profile. There will be grief counselors present and available to all students. There is no reason not to come in. Ren's parents call in to excuse him. Something is making him nauseous, and his parents are assured he can still receive counselling if he needs it when he returns. Ren stays in bed. He doesn't shower. He keeps his eyes down when he has to make trips to the bathroom.

He doesn't know what he will see there, but he knows that whatever it is, it isn't going away now.

 


	2. Step Two: Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The stranger is back in the mirror again. Ren does not ignore him this time.

The next day, Ren hesitates before he touches the mirror. He is awake now, and he is certain. He is not alone. There is someone else in this room with him now. The one who shows up little by little in Ren's own face, who sets fires while nobody including Ren is watching, who seduces girls and leaves him to clean up the mess, who needs to be known and to exist more as an imaginary person than Ren does as a real one, the one that  _terrifies..._  but also  _excites_  Ren. Because this isn't just any stranger, not just some other guy, this is  _him_. Ren smears the condensation with his palm, clearing it only enough to see someone else's eyes staring back at him from his own. Eyes full of mirth and wonder and a terrible hunger that encompasses more than food or sex or violence. Indulgence is easy. What this Ren wants is much more complex. "Hello, Ren." Says Ren to the mirror, and the boy in the mirror to Ren. 

"Are you ready now?" This time the words aren't coming from Ren's mouth, but he's sure he hears them just the same, and it's not just in his head. Ren clears more of the mirror, wanting to be sure if the voice is actually coming from it. The other Ren smiles at him, and this Ren stares, because he is not smiling. "Not quite, then. Not quite. You will be. We will be. For now, just watch, and let me do all the hard work. Watch this time, mind you. Watch and learn."

Slowly, Ren nods. He is agreeing to something big, he knows, something dangerous. He is shaking, but not only from fear. The fear makes it stronger, but it is not a bad feeling. Only a strong one. The fear makes it real, makes him feel alive. It makes doing whatever he is going to do worthwhile. "Won't we - I - be caught? If not now, then eventually?"

"No. How could they keep us? You haven't done anything. You don't have to. I'll do it all. I'll even share the fun for letting me have it." Ren's reflection promises, perfectly certain, just like he is. Ren nods. This time they both smile. It is their own conspiracy. "Just tell me what you would like. I will get it for you."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

"It can't be  _anything_... I couldn't drive a car, or be the president, or travel the world-"

"Anything." The other Ren reiterates, and this time there is no smile. Only a flat, serious insistence. He is intent upon Ren until the boy relents, nodding again.

"Okay. Anything. I... want a friend." The reflection cocks its head and raises an eyebrow, frowning at the lackluster wish.

"A  _best_  friend," Ren is quick to add, finding it difficult to raise standards so quickly, but ashamed of the look his doppelganger is giving him. "One who is loyal. And determined."

The strange Ren in the mirror continues to look unimpressed. Ren begins to sweat.

"And strong! Popular. Smart. Someone who can be all the things I admire, but will use them for me."

"Ren. That's me." The reflection finally counters in exasperation. Ren is temporarily stunned by the assertion. He swallows the sand in his throat and ducks his head, thinking harder and faster than he knew he could.

"But. You can't stand with me when I need someone at my side."

There is silence. The challenge has been placed. Ren can't even think, too caught up in the tension as he waits to hear whether even this limitation can be broken by the stranger in the mirror. Finally, there is a sigh. Ren breathes again.

"Fine. I see. All right. A friend."

"A  _best_  friend." Ren has never had one. This is a very important qualifier.

"A boyfriend?" Ren flinches as if cut. He is used to being taunted. He shouldn't have reacted to a barb so small. The mirror-boy frowns again, and something doesn't line up. "Hey. I'm not joking. You don't think much of yourself, do you?"

"...you know I don't. Why else would you be here?"

"I have nothing to do with that. But I didn't mean it that way. I mean you don't spend much time thinking  _about_  yourself. Did you even realize you like boys, too?"

Ren's head snaps back up, eyes wide and disbelieving. Somehow this is the part he finds impossible, not the version of him crossing its arms at him from the reversed world beyond the glass barrier allowing them to discuss it.

"Right. Just a friend. For now. Let me worry about everything. As for you, just focus on yourself. Think about what you like, and what you want. Nail it down and write it up. I'll ask what you want again when you have your friend, so you better have something better to say next time." The reflection begins to pull away in that strange fading way that leaves Ren alone with the real Ren only.

"Wait!" The fading halts. "Um.. what do I... call you? I've been thinking of you as me. Is that right?"

The stranger's lip slowly curls upward.

"Well, you really don't know yourself after all, do you? Then, just call me Cat."

"Cat?" Ren doesn't understand, but his question goes unanswered. The stranger, this Cat, is gone.


	3. Step Three: Strategy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cat makes his first move.

I am spoiled for choice. I could pick from some of the girls as well as boys that Ren knows, there are plenty enough who fill the vague descriptions I was given. I am better than that, though. I will choose the best, and the one Ren _wanted_ without actually being able to say it straight out. I will go after the boy Ren has had his eye on, even if he isn't all the things that Ren wants him to be right now. I will make him into those things, and Ren will be even more satisfied with the results. Maybe he will even start to understand what I suggested to him. Although he has found ways to disguise the truth even in his own mind, he would be just as happy with a man's touch as a woman's, and as of this moment only one person of either sort has his devout attention.

Aedan. Loyal to nobody but himself. Determined to keep it that way. He isn't popular, but he _is_ well known. Not particularly strong, but not many Ren's age are. He is, at least, athletically inclined and fit. Smart enough to get into trouble and back out without actually having any serious consequences fall on his head. All in all, not exactly what Ren is surely expecting, but more than enough for me to make exactly what Ren wants. A project, and one I accept with eagerness. I will mould him into the perfect companion for my pathetic host, the first in a long road of stepping stones.

I reach out into the fractals of my world, finding the necessary pieces in my target. There, a father in a balancing act. There, a single trusting infatuation. There, a history of shadows. I tie them together, drag them back through the cutting edges of my home, hold them to me and wait for the cool air to replace the stinging warmth in my arms. When the jagged pieces are sealed together in dried blood, I return them to their original body. I rest while Ren wastes his peaceful day away, only snapping back awake when the wounds have scabbed over and it is time to put my sacrifices to use. I smile, satisfied in my work, and lift Ren's head from his desk. Our eyes skirt across the invisible crowd of averages and find the boy stained with my blood, at least to my eyes. When I touched him, he was rough but whole. Now he is out of place, pained without knowing the source of his injury. I leave Ren alone until the bell rings, then slide in between his footfalls, natural as breathing, and press into Aedan's side in the hall as we pass. I glance aside and up into his eyes, and into the distrust and anger with new depth inside him. I curl my fingers into the shoulder of his jacket, drop my weight into my motions as I pull down on his arm, and lift my lips to his ear.

"Don't go home tonight."

I cannot both be heard and pull away in time, so I move with the force of the blow as it comes. Aedan grimaces and the sound he makes matches the disgust written in the rest of his body language, spits a few caustic remarks in Ren's direction. I just smile, shrug, and walk away, releasing Ren back into his usual path, none the wiser as to why I have done this. Ren ducks into the public restroom, locking the door behind him, glaring in my direction over the counters. I relax from his rigid posture, the prickles of glass not enough to coax my smile away. Even in light of the pain, I am perfectly at ease. He will not understand yet, but when the time comes, he will thank me. 

"What were you doing?!"

"Making you a best friend."

"That is not how you make friends of any kind! Did you see how he looked at me?!" Ren planted his face in his palms, leaning over one of the sinks and marinating in his own distress. I have followed his pose, but not covered my face. My hands itch and burn, but I ignore them.

"Are you the expert now?"

Ren curls his fingers down and peeks out over them at me to glare. I raise a skeptical eyebrow in his direction. He cannot see the blood on my hands. Mine or others'. He still mostly sees himself. I do not falter, shrugging for Ren's benefit this time. 

"I told you to watch, so watch. He'll be back."

Ren mirrors my skepticism, then realizes how eerie the effect is and shakes his head, pulling back to stand up properly and breathe deeply, pacing in little circles and thinking hard. I fall into step with him, choosing my moments - my differences - with care. I can't pull away cleanly, but that will come with time. Ren crosses his arms, nails pinching into his biceps as we face each other again.

"Aedan? You really think  _he_ could be the best friend I asked for?"

"You won't believe me, so why should I convince you? Ren is clearly frustrated and nervous about the deal we've made. He may be having second thoughts, but it is too late to stop what has already begun, and he must know it, because he doesn't say another word. He doesn't even acknowledge my existence for the rest of the day, except to cover his household mirrors. He seems to think this leaves me as blind as it does him. Well, he'll understand soon enough. It is useless to resist and wise to indulge, and I am sick to death of being restrained. Let someone else have a turn.


	4. Step Four: Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pieces begin to fall into place.

Locked.

Aedan tries the front door of his home again. No change. Aedan withdraws and searches his bag, but the keys are gone. He tries his cell phone instead. The phone rings twice before the other end picks up, and Aedan relays his situation. There are a few moments of silence before a decision is reached. Aedan turns around and heads back the way he came. Emily lives on the other side of town.

Emily lives in an apartment. There are no adults, and half of the rooms are filling up with boxes. When Aedan arrives, Emily is crying. They hug, and Aedan coaxes her back inside. He fetches drinks and starts cooking something, but there isn’t much left in the fridge. Emily apologizes for the state of things. Aedan asks if she needs him to call someone to help her. If she has someplace else to go. Emily studies her fingernails without replying. Aedan serves the flimsy meal he’s prepared, and the two eat in relative silence. Emily keeps checking her phone while sorting through objects in the room and choosing which to put into boxes, then changing her mind and returning half of them.

Aedan gets a call, but the line is dead when he answers. His caller ID places the call as being made from his home. He tries to call back, but it won’t go through. He thanks Emily, says he has to go, she tells him he is welcome anytime, and with formalities past Aedan leaves.

It is dark when Aedan reaches home, the street quiet and empty. The door is unlocked, some of the lights further inside are on. The door is barely open when Aedan hits the ground. He does not get up while his father seals the door behind him and mutters curses. The man is in tears, but acts quickly. He lifts his boy up and takes him downstairs. With cords and duct tape from the garage, he ties Aedan’s ankles and knees, wrists, elbows. He gags and covers his son’s mouth, opens the cellar door hidden downstairs, and tucks Aedan inside. His eyes dart around him, his breathing choked, voice and body alike shaking, but he acts with purpose as he cleans the trail he has left behind and makes the call.

* * *

In the next few days, Aedan’s school cracks down on safety measures for students who make their own way home, and encourage safe practices when home alone. The police have no leads on the missing student Aedan March, who disappeared after returning home to a presumed robbery in progress. Aedan’s father is a wreck, trying to sort out police reports and insurance claims between missing days of work and struggling to stay on top of debts accrued by his recently passed wife’s medical bills and funeral costs.

Emily hears about Aedan’s disappearance the same way all the other students do, but she has a unique insight. She knows about the call. Among the many objects she piles into boxes Emily finds a key she does not recognize and has a suspicion. She skips the next day of school to visit Aeden’s home, uses the key, and overhears something below. What she finds down the stairs nearly makes her heart stop. Emily rushes in to free Aedan, trying to rouse him once she realizes he is not trying to help. She has only managed to tear half of them free when she notices the figure who just came in from another room with a handful of medical implements… she bolts. Aedan’s father gives chase. He catches her before she can even make it up the first few stairs and wrestles her down. 

The man recognizes this girl. Her name was in the papers, one that his son had recognized. Her brother died recently in a fire. He interrogates her to find out what betrayed the truth of his scheme, and learns more about her in doing so. He makes an offer she can’t refuse. There is a pause in which Emily considers the options spread out before her, snipping them short one by one, until only a single choice remains. Aedan’s father escorts Emily to the door, thanking her for visiting, and promises to be in touch once Aedan is brought home safely. He makes his way back downstairs to continue administering the drug which has kept Aeden unaware all this time. The boy is no longer there.

* * *

Aedan’s knuckles crack against brick. He cries out, pain now mingling with his rage. His target is unphased by his snarling. Aeden doesn’t even know this boy until Ren introduces himself, ignoring the threats and insults being hurled his way. Tense discussion ensues, and Ren admits to a secret talent, which he had attempted to use to save Aedan. Aedan is reluctant to trust, more so than ever because of what has happened. They came to an uneasy agreement.

* * *

Aedan’s father vanished overnight after his son _really_ disappeared from his home. The police were on the lookout for him or any trails to him. Emily tried to speak with Aedan when she heard he had been found and spoken with police. Aedan had already checked with police to see if any other reports had been made about him before he came forward. None had. He didn’t mention Emily in his testimony, but he refused to speak with her, either. Aedan was old enough technically to live on his own, but with his father a fugitive from the law, the house under his name, and the debt still hanging overhead, there wasn’t really anything left for Aedan except a few personal belongings. For the time being, Aedan would be taken into the care of his aunt, despite her being frequently unavailable, since her guardianship was really only required to ensure there would be a roof over Aedan’s head and food on his table.

* * *

Aedan is up long past when it would have been wise to rest. He is temporarily sleeping on an extra couch in an old office his uncle had used for work once upon a time. It has only been half transformed into his aunt’s new craft room since his passing. The house is dark except for the lamp on the small table behind Aedan's head and the glint of it off the coin-sized mirror in his fingertips. Aedan spins the object, scrutinizing it for some hidden angle. There is nothing. Except, now and then, when the image is rotating too quickly to be clear… he thinks he might see a dark flash of red, like a bloody stain over his heart.


End file.
